Don't You Forget About Me
by The King's Soldier
Summary: "The world will never know what they did for it, of course. But they will. That's all that really matters. They know, and they have each other to share it with." A coda of sorts for the show, also known as a collection of snapshots of what comes next as seen through Jennifer's eyes. One-shot. Spoilers for the finale.


**Author's Note:** It's been a while (like two years) since I've written anything around here. Other projects have been keeping me occupied, and I just haven't had a burning need to write fan fiction. And then "12 Monkeys" ended. That show is one of my favorites, and I loved the finale so much. But I wanted more. So here's my take on a little bit of what happens afterwards. (Spoiler alert for the whole show, but especially the finale.) It centers on Jennifer, but most of the main crew get a mention. This is all just my take, so everybody may not agree or whatever. But hopefully some of you will enjoy one last trip to splinter land. See you soon!

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but an Itunes stash of episodes.

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 **Don't You Forget About Me**

The pills in her hand are red and blue. Always the same. Red to blue, blue to red. Nothing ever changes. Blue like the ocean and red like a forest in fall. At least two is primary. But so is three, and there should be three because there's three primary colors. And primary is important. Keeps the world spinning.

Jennifer huffs down at the pills. "Give me yellow, I could paint you the world!" The bathroom doesn't answer. Not that she expects it to. She's not that kind of crazy. The voices stay in her head most of the time, and sometimes not even there if she takes her meds. Keeps her out of the loony bin.

She's not in the loony bin. A frown wrinkles her face as she stares down at the pills. That's important. Why is that important? She should be in the bell jar right now. Cuckoo for cocoa puffs. Tick tock. Eyes going round and round like a granddaddy clock. Crazy Jennifer Goines.

 _She's not crazy._

It feels like being thrown in ice water. It's real. Solid like stone. Not just something in her head. She knows it more strongly than she's ever known anything before. She's. Not. Crazy.

She's primary.

The wave rushes in, memory after memory, years upon years, living and dying, blue to red and back again. Faces and names and places she shouldn't know but she does. It's all there. Every second of it. A memory of a tomorrow that will never come. It never happened, but it did, and she can see it all. The ghosts of splinters past, present and future.

And Jennifer isn't crazy. She's important. Was. Will be. In a life that never happened. To people she's never met. But she knows them, knows everything about them. She was important. She helped save the world. And it worked, it must have worked, because she's not in the loony bin. No dead eyes fueling Daddy's obsession, no Night Room massacre, no being locked up for murder she didn't commit. Just crazy Jennifer Goines, brilliantly batty heiress. But the voices are calmer now, like soothing waves on the ocean, and there's no more monsters fighting to escape onto pages, and she's not crazy.

She's primary. Blue time machines and red forests and yellow chalk. Primary. Important. Is, was, will be. Can be again. A new cycle starting from scratch clean and whole with straight lines. The only time there will ever be. Pulled the thread and straightened it out. They did it. _He_ did it.

The world is alive. Time is sane. And so is Jennifer.

She tips her hand and watches the pills disappear down the drain. She doesn't need them anymore.

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She stays in her own world at first. The others have to remember something – being outside of time means the server wipe doesn't quite get you – but she's not sure how much they know yet. They're not primary, not intimately connected to time. Do they have it all or just vague déjà vu? They never call, they never write. Is it ignorance? Or is everyone too busy creating the yesterdays they never had?

Besides, there's plenty to keep her busy. She stages a coup to seize the company from dear old Dad. And then she has some fun. Nothing frees you up to embrace the crazy like finding out you're not. So she bioengineers a unicorn. The investors ask why, but Jennifer asks why not? They have no vision, no scope. They haven't seen the puzzle from above. They don't realize they're free.

It's during the press conference that she knows for sure. She's caught whispers in time before. Ghosts of the tomorrow that will never be. And then she looks at one of the cameras and she just _knows_. Some bonds are too strong to erase. Cassie is watching. Cassie remembers. And Jennifer smiles.

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It takes two weeks before she shows up on Cassie's porch. Rocking back and forth on her heels as she stands in front of the house of cedar and pine. What if Cassie doesn't want to see her? What if she'd rather just get on with her life? What if the memory of tomorrow hurts too much? But that's exactly why Jennifer has to be here. Maybe she can't replace Otter Eyes, but she can still help.

She pinches her lips together as the door opens. "Hiya Cass." Nervous. Unsure. Cassie just stands there, and Jennifer takes a breath to say… something. She doesn't know what. And then Cassie is coming out of the house and tugging her into the tightest bear hug imaginable. Jennifer practically melts in Cassie's arms. Sighing contentedly as her own arms loop comfortably around. "You give really good hugs."

She doesn't have to see Cassie's face to know the doctor is smiling. "I missed you too." There's something about those words. Like a missing piece snapping into place. And it's only then that Jennifer realizes she needed this just as much as Cassie did. The world is safe. Their futures are free. But their ragtag band found something in each other in that other world, something not all of them can replace in this new time. Family.

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Jennifer visits off and on. She's still CEO of a company with the world at her feet. But there's something about that house. Something warm. So the northeast bedroom becomes hers, and one of the stuffed unicorns stays permanently, and the walls slowly fill up with sketches of butterflies and smiling faces and old time machines. No more death. No more monsters. Only the things Jennifer _wants_ to draw.

Every night Cassie sits on the porch with this look in her eyes, and every night Jennifer wonders if she should tell her. Something always stops her though. It's not fair to make Cassie wait. To put everything on hold. Besides, Jennifer's always been a fan of surprises. So she draws and plays with science and joins an acting group and starts writing a play. Every timeline needs a little J. H. Bond.

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She sees Jones from across the street one day. Swollen up like a watermelon. They don't say anything. Jennifer just waves, and after a second of surprise, Jones smiles. A big, proud smile. Because she _knows_. Not just the future that never was but the thing Jennifer has kept to herself. And there's something exciting about the secret. Something that ties them together, even if they never actually talk about it.

Jones writes to Cassie soon after that. They turn into regular ol' pen pals before long. Sometimes Cassie reads the letters aloud when Jennifer visits, and she listens happily with her stuffed unicorn to their words talking about everything and yet nothing. Simple, ordinary things from simple, ordinary lives. She's pleased to note Jones doesn't tell the secret either.

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One day in the summer she tells her secretary she has a meeting in Florida and proceeds to spend three days sitting on the beach waiting. She knows he's coming. She's known since they first reset. But knowing it doesn't lessen the relief of seeing the sea spit out Otter Eyes right in front of her. Because Cassie was right in the end. Time owes him one. And a world without him just wouldn't be the same.

She mails a letter to Jones on her way home. A short message written on the most glittery thank-you card Jennifer can find. Two words that say everything – _It worked_. She also includes a picture of the unicorn she bioengineered. Jones should appreciate that, one scientist to another.

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The next time Jennifer shows up on the porch, Cassie opens the door in a shirt that definitely isn't hers. Her eyes narrow, and Jennifer fidgets uncomfortably. "You knew, didn't you?" Cassie asks. It's rhetorical. Obviously. Jennifer bits her bottom lip and nods like a kid caught with their hand in a candy jar. She wouldn't blame Cassie for being irritated. But instead Cassie just shakes her head and says, "You are a pain in the ass in every timeline." There's something in the words though, something achingly fond. Something that sounds almost like gratitude.

So Jennifer grins, and Cassie waves her in, and ten minutes later they're at the kitchen table eating fried chicken out of a bucket, and Cole is asking her why in the world she made a unicorn, and Jennifer is accidentally snorting soda up her nose, and Cassie is laughing so hard she cries. And for just a second, Jennifer decides she can see the appeal of making a moment last forever.

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A year later Cassie is putting a baby in Jennifer's arms. A little boy. Holding something this precious makes her hands shake and her eyes well up. For once in her life, Jennifer is speechless. They name him Athan. And they want her to be the godmother. Jennifer cries. And then she tells that little boy she's going to be the best auntie in the whole world. Cassie says she's going to spoil him rotten. She's not wrong. But Jennifer is also going to make sure he grows up knowing what it took her most of her life to learn – that he's not crazy. He's special. Primary. And someday when he's old enough, Jennifer will show him the story of how he helped save the world.

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She meets Jones at the park sometimes on weekends and pushes little Hannah on the swings. The kid doesn't have a clue who she is. Just a friend of her mom's. But she's smart and kind and everything Jennifer remembers raising her to be. And someday she knows that beautiful little girl will grow into a fierce young woman who sometimes accidentally refers to both Jones and Jennifer as Mother. Who can't resist the urge to smooth down Cole's hair even though he's more than twice her age. Who laughs and tells her grandson not to be a little shit when he calls her Granny even though she's barely any older than him. Someday she'll make them proud all over again. But for now Jennifer's perfectly happy to spin the merry-go-round one more time.

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Somebody gives the city a nudge to start a program that gives low-income kids better access to technology and career preparation, and the smartest ones get internships at Markridge. One of them is a polite young orphan named Jose Ramse. He seems a little unassuming as Jennifer walks up and down on the board room table during orientation. He looks at her funny though. Like he's trying to remember why he should know her. Grasping at a memory of tomorrow. Jennifer just grins. And if she happens to shuffle assignments so he's working next to a bright girl named Elena, well, sometimes fate needs a little help.

But Ramse doesn't. He's a standout intern with a head for business. Cleans up nice too. And he always calls her "Ms. Goines" with this little half bow that looks almost Japanese. Someday that'll stop. Someday he'll look her right in the face and call her "Cocoa Puffs" with that devilish grin she knows so well, and Jennifer's assistant will almost choke to death on her chai latte. And when he does, Jennifer will hand him the keys to company. The investors will protest. They'll say he's untested, that he doesn't have the experience yet. Only Jennifer will know that he has a lifetime of it. She's seen what he can do with this place. But more than that, she knows how hard he'll work to be a man his son can be proud of.

Besides, Jennifer has better things to do with her time than wrangle bureaucrats. Like finishing J. H. Bond's latest play, a musical about a gang of misfits who save the world with time travel. The critics say the plot makes no sense. It's a runaway hit anyway.

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Being Madame Markridge brings enough money to swim in, and Jennifer throws it wherever it'll stick. A makeover for the loony bin. Cassie's medical research. A garage where Cole takes up a job with a man who likes to tease him about having the same last name. A club for troubled girls who affectionately dub themselves Jennifer's daughters. A domestic abuse shelter that helps spouses and their kids rebuild their lives. A grant fund for people looking to start business. Like, for example, two brothers who came up through that shelter and now want to open a bar. The loan gets paid off overnight by an anonymous donation, and if the older of the two suspects the unpolished lady who drifts in occasionally to make bad jokes and watch the bar fights might be involved, well, he never calls her on it. Just like she never points out the old jukebox in the corner can play more than just "Don't You Forget About Me."

Because he won't in the end. Someday he'll walk in with a fresh tattoo of the number VII on the inside of his arm, and no one but Jennifer will understand why. And when the bar empties for the night, he'll pour them both a glass and they'll drink a toast to saving the world. Turns out they're pretty damn good at it.

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The world will never know what they did for it, of course. But they will. That's all that really matters. They know, and they have each other to share it with. And someday they'll all show up at that house of cedar and pine and cram themselves around a long table for the wackiest Thanksgiving this world has ever seen. Because time isn't always a thief. Sometimes it decides to give back. It's given them all a second chance. A family. And someday, yes, there will be an ending to the laughter and the jokes and the stories. But this time they'll be ready for it. After all, it's not everybody who gets to live twice.

Besides, that's still a long way off yet. There's so many moments left to fill, so much _now_ left to enjoy. A million tomorrows for them to create. Time is saved, Jennifer isn't crazy, and she has people in her life who care. Who are happy. They're free to write their own stories now, whatever they want that to look like. Because no matter what ending they choose, it'll still be the right one.

Personally, Jennifer's going to ride off into the sunset on her unicorn. And maybe try cloning a dodo.

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I really don't know where all that came from. It just sort of wrote itself. But if you're still reading this and would be so inclined as to leave a review, even if it's just a few words, it would make my day. Thanks for reading!


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